THE VALMA JUNE
Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 10:27 pm
This little poem started out life as homework that Zondrae had put up at BPAV. I always liked it for some reason and have entered it twice in comps for HC and a C.
I Borrowed my wife's name as it rhymed with moon, and come on fella's, If we owned a boat wouldn't we all name it after our wives? Terry
THE VALMA JUNE
I stumbled first onto the wreck one brightly moonlit night,
beached partly out of water at a spot well out of sight.
And something made me stop to look more closely at this boat,
abandoned for some reason, at this place that’s so remote.
She’d been a jewel within her class, of that I had no doubt,
and once a thing of beauty built on classic lines throughout.
Now timbers bleached and paintwork ravaged by the wind and sea,
a mere shadow of her past, and what she used to be.
The lichen hung like tresses of an aging beauty’s hair,
bright silver in the moonlight though streaked darker here and there.
By torch light on the darkened side now hidden from the moon,
I found a faded ship’s name; she was called the Valma June.
The movement of the water seemed to whisper then to me,
as though to tell a secret of an unsolved mystery.
And water lapped upon the hull like signals from within,
suggesting people trapped below as water rushes in.
I climbed up by her mast and viewed her deck from where I stood,
and saw the shattered timbers, now a splintered pile of wood.
Then heard a sound like footsteps and slight creaking down below,
perhaps imagination, but I guess I’ll never know.
A feeling of great sadness seemed to wash right over me,
as though I sensed disaster that had happened out at sea.
Perhaps this ship had foundered with great panic and in fear,
and secrets lay forgotten in this battered hulk beached here.
As long as I stood on that boat this feeling did persist,
and heightened by arrival of a swirling evening mist.
Reluctantly I clambered down and made my way to camp,
still touched by my experience; the night now chilled and damp.
Next morning saw me wander back to bid a last farewell,
the mood had now been broken, she no longer cast her spell.
I didn’t climb aboard again; just stood and looked once more,
and left her as I found her, derelict upon the shore.
T.E.Piggott © 16/3/2010 I found her name now faded she was called the Valma June
I Borrowed my wife's name as it rhymed with moon, and come on fella's, If we owned a boat wouldn't we all name it after our wives? Terry
THE VALMA JUNE
I stumbled first onto the wreck one brightly moonlit night,
beached partly out of water at a spot well out of sight.
And something made me stop to look more closely at this boat,
abandoned for some reason, at this place that’s so remote.
She’d been a jewel within her class, of that I had no doubt,
and once a thing of beauty built on classic lines throughout.
Now timbers bleached and paintwork ravaged by the wind and sea,
a mere shadow of her past, and what she used to be.
The lichen hung like tresses of an aging beauty’s hair,
bright silver in the moonlight though streaked darker here and there.
By torch light on the darkened side now hidden from the moon,
I found a faded ship’s name; she was called the Valma June.
The movement of the water seemed to whisper then to me,
as though to tell a secret of an unsolved mystery.
And water lapped upon the hull like signals from within,
suggesting people trapped below as water rushes in.
I climbed up by her mast and viewed her deck from where I stood,
and saw the shattered timbers, now a splintered pile of wood.
Then heard a sound like footsteps and slight creaking down below,
perhaps imagination, but I guess I’ll never know.
A feeling of great sadness seemed to wash right over me,
as though I sensed disaster that had happened out at sea.
Perhaps this ship had foundered with great panic and in fear,
and secrets lay forgotten in this battered hulk beached here.
As long as I stood on that boat this feeling did persist,
and heightened by arrival of a swirling evening mist.
Reluctantly I clambered down and made my way to camp,
still touched by my experience; the night now chilled and damp.
Next morning saw me wander back to bid a last farewell,
the mood had now been broken, she no longer cast her spell.
I didn’t climb aboard again; just stood and looked once more,
and left her as I found her, derelict upon the shore.
T.E.Piggott © 16/3/2010 I found her name now faded she was called the Valma June
